In The Sanguinary Fall
by Flurrin
Summary: Tamaki Suoh is presented with the chance at a happy reunion, but things could turn sour if he's not careful. Suggested by Shialuvr222, set after the anime. Character death.


He sat with one leg resting on the window sill, his wandering eyes studying the people down below through the glass. There were no signs of life other than the trace of a fond smile on his face. He'd been frozen like that since earlier that evening, when a lady of the club had asked him about his mother and he'd quietly excused himself.

This was not the Tamaki Suoh known to the Host Club.

His presence had been diminished from a colorful bonfire to a contented candle flickering in the background. His bold, extreme personality had been tucked away for now. Normally it wouldn't concern his fellow hosts, but this wasn't the first time he'd wavered as such, and in the past few days, it had been happening more frequently.

The energetic club leader finally roused himself when Kyouya prematurely dismissed all the female patrons of the club. "Hey, Kyouya, there's no need for that," he chided affectionately, still distant.

The hosts gathered around him: The twins with their elbows akimbo, Kyouya rearranging figures on the clipboard that he carried around perpetually, Haruhi crossing her arms thoughtfully, and Honey and Mori guarding against an attempted escape.

"Should we tell him?" Mitsukuni glanced at Kyouya, tightening his grip on his stuffed rabbit.

"I definitely think we should tell him," Haruhi mumbled.

"Yes, it's about that time." Kyouya Ootori smiled, then slid his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and widened his stance, like he was preparing for a battle. "Tamaki Suoh! It has come to the club's collective attention that you have not lately been yourself!"

Tamaki was momentarily caught off guard by the decorous announcement. "Er…I…my apologies, I have no excuse…"

"We're not finished, senpai," Haruhi cut in. Tamaki's mouth snapped shut obediently.

Kaoru crossed his arms. "We've decided you spend too much time using this club to make other people happy."

"And not enough time pleasing yourself," Hikaru continued.

The clipboard now at his side, Kyouya finished the well-rehearsed speech. "Therefore, the club deems it as their responsibility—nay, our order of business—to cheer you up."

Tamaki smiled and shook his head, dramatically raising one hand to the sky (or rather to the music room ceiling). "You don't have to do anything, friends. It's entirely my fault that I've been moping while you entertain the guests! I see now that I was in error and I shan't—"

"Ugh, enough with the formality! Tamaki-senpai, we found your mom."

The club leader stopped in the middle of milking his giant invisible cow to crane his neck at Haruhi. "…Come again?"

Kyouya held out a paper invitation. "It was Haruhi's idea. And after several weeks of research and no small amount of bootlicking, we successfully contacted your missing mother, and Mitsukuni and Takashi helped set up a private meeting time and place."

"You…you what?" Tamaki took the paper as though it would rot away in his hands if he didn't memorize it quickly enough and took a step back. Silence dominated the club room as he perused it, noting internally the upcoming date and the park it would take place in. Only the quiet rumble of Kyouya's cellphone, a polite "Excuse me, I need to take this" and his soft footsteps as he left interrupted.

After over a minute of continued quiet, Haruhi stepped toward Tamaki, laying a hand on his forearm. "Senpai…"

He looked up at her and she gasped. She'd never seen Tamaki cry—not sincerely. Glittering, damp eyelashes were something he played off for attention or laughs during Host Club hours, and occasionally he would fill his massive purple puppy eyes until they glistened if he really wanted a favor.

Tears were streaking his flushed cheeks unashamedly. He tried to speak but was unable to get past the sob in his throat.

"Tama-chan's crying!" Honey yelped in dismay. "Did we do something wrong?"

"N-no, I—" Tamaki gave up on words and charged into Haruhi, enveloping her in a hug and waving for the other members to join in. "I'm overjoyed…Thank you."

Haruhi felt a hand on her shoulder blade. Then the hug became tighter and warmer as Honey, Mori and the twins joined in.

"Thank you _all_," Tamaki repeated fervently.

"Ah, am I interrupting something?" Kyouya said as he reentered the room, amused. Before he could avoid it, the Hitachiin twins had nabbed both of his arms and sent him staggering into the collected embrace.

Tamaki laughed. "Yes, this is an example of the Host Club family spirit I intended for all along!"

"Suoh, you're strangling me!"

"Is this then the pain that true love brings to a heart? Hahahaa!"

"The Host Club isn't even open right now!"

The group hug largely dispersed in order to more conveniently watch Kyouya cash in on the very much unwelcome brotherly-love fest he'd missed when he left to answer his cellphone. By the time the club's raven-haired financier broke free, everyone had realized how late it was getting.

"We have to get home," Hikaru and Kaoru said in unison. "We're going on a short vacation over the weekend."

"Let us know how it turns out," Hikaru added on his own.

The club's only girl waved at the twins as they left together. "Sure, I'll call you guys."

"Haruhi, if I may have a word in the hallway?" Kyouya whispered to her.

"Huh? Uh, sure. See you later, Tamaki-senpai!"

The tall teen herded her out the door, glancing over his shoulder as if to make sure they would not be followed. As Tamaki was still slightly in shock and tracing his fingers along the paper reverentially, it wasn't as much of a problem as it would normally be, though who knew how much time they had until he realized his "daughter" hadn't left the club alone.

As soon as they were out of range, Kyouya let himself grimace. "I'm debating about whether to tell Tamaki this."

Haruhi raised one eyebrow. "What's up, senpai? You look like you had a bad bit of sushi."

"One of my underworld contacts has informed me. It's still just a rumor, but they're saying Tamaki Suoh's mother has a price on her head now."

Haruhi shrugged. "Ignoring the fact that you have underworld connections, well, sure. You rich people always wake up looking like a million dollars."

"A bounty, Haruhi. Someone wants her dead."

She blinked at him. "…Ohh, you mean, like, someone in the Yakuza?"

"I mean someone with connections. Perhaps someone like Suoh's grandmother… She may never forgive him for defying her. She would do _anything_ to break him. I'd better station the Ootori family's private police at the meeting place. If anyone has caught wind of this, it's entirely possible we could be leading them both into a trap."

"You're being a little paranoid, Kyouya-senpai. She's just a little old woman."

His gray gaze was turned on her. Haruhi was transfixed momentarily by how cold his voice became. He stared down at her through the lenses of his spectacles, and she almost took a step back.

"Haruhi, you have no idea what that little old woman is capable of."

* * *

Tamaki wrung his hands, pacing all around the park bench. The chill autumn wind rattled his hair and the eggshell-hued scarf tied loosely around his neck, but he wasn't bothered by the cold. His mind was preoccupied. He was glowing with excitement and his expression swapped between comically joyous and terrified that the situation wouldn't be ideal.

"I must make it perfect! For her! Show her the skills I learned since I left!"

Kyouya and Haruhi glanced at each other.

"We should leave him alone," she said, smirking.

"That would probably be best," the Ootori boy agreed. "Tamaki, you know my militia is stationed all around. If something feels funny, they'll come to help you."

"Yes, yes," Tamaki answered without shifting his gaze from his fingernails. "What if I've grown so much she doesn't recognize me? What if she got the date wrong?..." He turned on his heel and seized the closest bodyguard by the vest. "_What if _I'm_ the one at the wrong place?!_"

The trooper squirmed. "I don't know, sir, I'm just following orders."

Suoh released him and coughed. "Yes! And rightly so. Carry on, my good man." He paused thoughtfully before taking another glance at the private police member. All of them looked the same, barring stripes that indicted their rank—helmets and black uniforms with bulletproof vests. Tamaki rubbed his shoulder idly, wondering if he should have accepted one of the Kevlar vests when it had been offered.

Then he noticed the weapon. The private police had all been granted the same basic Glock. This man's gun, however, appeared to be some sort of modified weapon. Tamaki squinted at it for a moment, then pulled back. "You're not with the Ootori family!"

Tamaki didn't have time to process further before the man took off, shoving him aside like a ragdoll and dropping to one knee on the path, taking aim at an approaching figure. Tamaki caught himself on his hands, staring up at the imposter's target. The real policemen were dashing in to capture him, but he already had a clear shot on her: a woman with long, blond hair who was drawing ever nearer.

"Mother…"

Staggering upright, Tamaki threw his hand over the end of the gun barrel, jerking it away. The man cursed, surprised, and swung it back around aggressively against Tamaki's grasp.

"You! Freeze!"

The man pinned Tamaki's hand to his chest with the gun, gesturing at the approaching policemen. "Don't take another step forward or I will _kill_ this boy."

"Senpai!" A screech of horror emanated from Haruhi as she made her way to the front of the line.

"Stay back!" he called to her. Then his eyebrows furrowed and he turned a chilling glare on the would-be assassin. The man's face was concealed by the helmet, of course, but even through the tinted mask, Tamaki found the dark shadows of his eyes and bore into them.

"Don't you move, kid!" The gunman tried to sound defiant, but his voice was wavering. He was too busy trying to keep an eye on his moving target.

Tamaki leaned closer to him. His free hand came up and gripped the gun barrel, tearing it away from his breast. "I will. Not. Let you _harm _her!"

But he'd overestimated the man's reflexive nerve. The finger on the trigger twitched and the arm jerked spasmodically. Just enough for one shot to tear through Tamaki's hand to his abdomen beyond.

"Tamaki!" Kyouya roared, charging toward them.

The gunman, having lost his hostage, was seized instantaneously by the furious crowd of militia, disarmed and wrestled to the ground. Haruhi and Kyouya fought through the mass of moving bodies to where Tamaki lay prostrate in a pool of his own blood.

"Tamaki! Tamaki-senpai!" Haruhi knelt beside him as Kyouya's fingers flew over the keyboard of his phone, dialing an emergency.

His hooded, violet eyes were locked on his bent knees, unblinking. "I can't…feel my hands…"

"We're calling for an ambulance; it's going to be all right! Stay with us, Tamaki-senpai!"

Haruhi's face seemed blurred. One second she was close, then a scuffle seemed to break out nearby—boots scraped the ground around him—and her attention was drawn away from Tamaki. He wanted to tell her not to go anywhere, but couldn't remember how to form words all at once.

"Let her through!" Haruhi yelled, standing, her hands balling into fists. The power in her voice was not easily denied.

_Who?_ Tamaki thought quizzically. Then _she_ was there, kneeling opposite Haruhi, her wavy, golden hair spilling into his face, and he knew.

"Mère," he whispered, his eyes lighting up.

She just sobbed, cradling his head in her lap. "My boy, my baby boy…"

Her hands caressed his cheek and he leaned into her touch, his breathing eased by her presence alone. "I knew you…were really coming… I wanted it…to be perfect." He smirked at the sky, where autumn leaves whirled past like shooting stars. "I pictured more flowers in bloom, though…"

"Hush, love…we could make it better together," she tried to assure him, trembling. "Je viens seulement vous trouvé, ne partent pas…"

"Je suis désolé….Still…it's not too bad. The autumn sky is such a deep blue…"

She brushed the hair out of his forehead. "It's perfect, Tamaki…you don't have to worry about anything. I'm going to take care of you."

Tamaki's dimming gaze flicked from Kyouya to Haruhi and back to his mother, and the corners of his mouth twitched. "It'll…be okay…"

His eyes drifted shut with this last breath.

His mother let out a keening scream, her face buried in his golden hair, and she clutched his pale form tighter. But he lay pale and cold, with no signs of life other than the trace of a fond smile on his face.


End file.
